


Two Out of Three Ain't Bad

by telemachus



Series: Gigolas zoo-verse AU [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, Zookeeper AU, kid!legolas - Freeform, step-parenting, thranduil the businessman, thranduil's parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1888785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telemachus/pseuds/telemachus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't easy to love someone like Thranduil. Not with the children, the past history, & above all, his own personality.</p><p>but - sometimes when you fall in love, that's it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hope91](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope91/gifts).
  * Inspired by [If you go to the zoo today...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1772143) by [hope91](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope91/pseuds/hope91). 



> title from a song by Meatloaf.
> 
> Gift for Hope, because she thought up the AU, & I was intrigued by one relationship in it.

This has to be the most ridiculously over the top wedding I have ever been to. Comes of having the father of the groom and the uncle of the – other groom – competing, I suppose. But – honestly. The money, the fuss. Not that I mind, how could I mind, anything to see that smile on Legolas’ face. 

I haven’t told his father the two of them have been at it like rabbits since the day they got engaged. It wasn’t something I wanted to know, but – Legolas has never been one to keep quiet. About anything. Although – the glow on him – I don’t think he could have hidden it from me if he had wanted to. I have never seen him so happy. I have never been that happy. Enough, Caradhil, this day is not about you, it is about Legolas. I suppose I should just be glad it was me he told, not his father. Thranduil’s so proud about this ‘waiting’ – seems to think it shows real strength of character, moral compass.

I do not let that hurt.

Anyway. Legolas is happy. So that’s alright.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him quite so – confident. He and his new husband – Gimli – nice lad – think I can trust him to look after my little one – they have started off the dancing, and now – oh, now Legolas wants his father to dance with him. His father doesn’t dance.

Oh.

Apparently he dances with Legolas.

I do not let that hurt.

Legolas is happy. So that’s alright.

I watch as Gimli dances a bit with his mother – that’s nice – and then – then the newly-weds are back in each other’s arms. Well, I suppose Gimli was not going to want to dance with his father, was he? Not his style at all.

But – I do feel a bit – sad. Especially when I see that Gimli’s parents – are dancing. Together.

Thranduil – my Thranduil – just finds another bottle of wine, and comes and sits down again. I suppose I should be glad he has come to sit near me, not anywhere else.

Not that he is talking.

I reach out with the hand nearest him, but – I can feel him flinch away – shy of contact in public as ever – so I stop, and just fill my glass.

After a while I realise how it could look – I make the effort to talk to people, to be charming, to be – Caradhil. He makes no effort. He is Thranduil – he does not put himself out for others. 

Legolas – has eyes only for Gimli. Which is how it should be.

But there is a part of me that feels – so alone. Lost. Without purpose.

It is a long evening.

They are so happy, the pair of them. I keep remembering Gimli’s words, when he proposed to Legolas – how much he loves him. How he has – tried so hard to be what Legolas wants. He hasn’t stopped swearing, or smoking, but – he has definitely cut down. And the waiting – I am pretty sure that has been very, very difficult for him. If I am honest, I know my little Legolas is not exactly an easy one to love. For all the years of comfort he has had, he still is desperately needy, and I don’t think that will ever change now. I have tried, oh I have tried, but – he is what he is. Daft as a brush as well, frankly. Sings all the time, except when he is talking. But – Gimli loves him. That proposal – it made me cry – or it would have, were I not Caradhil. Caradhil does not cry. Not in front of others.

I wish – I had the courage to speak like that to my love. But he doesn’t want to hear it, he never has. That is not how it is between us.

Eventually the two of them leave, looking very happy, but, I have to say, not in the least like two people who are about to go to bed together for the first time.

As if you would know what that looks like, Caradhil. What two people in love look like.

Fortunately, Thranduil does not hear any of the comments, nor realise this. In fact, when they have gone, he turns to me, and says simply, 

“Get the coats, I will call the driver – we’re leaving now.”

I sigh. But – this is his son’s wedding. If he wants to leave, then we will.

Not my son.

I get the coats, make our goodbyes, and we get into the car. I suppose this is the point where most couples would – I don’t know – hold hands. Kiss maybe.

Not us.

The journey home is silent, oh, except for the conversation between Thranduil and the driver about what time tomorrow morning he is going into work.

We go indoors. And now – at last – he puts his arm round me.

“Thank you,” he says, “that went well. I know – it wouldn’t have without you. In fact – I don’t suppose Legolas would ever have got himself together enough to get married without you. Thank you.”

Makes it all worthwhile.

Almost.

I lean my head against him, leaning into the – not quite hug – and sigh. 

“He’ll be fine,” I say, “honestly. And – he knows where we are if he needs us.” I pause, and then, “bed?” I ask, because – please – I want to make love to you this night.

He pulls away,  
“You go up,” he says, “I won’t be long. Need to check something in the markets. Rights issue happening, remember.”

Oh.

I make myself smile, and he brushes my nose, in the nearest he is capable of coming to affection.

I go to bed. It is a long while before I sleep, but he isn’t there.

I wake early, but he is already up. 

Or else he never came to bed.

 

 

He is working already. He doesn’t want breakfast. 

When I get home – tired, it’s been a busy day, everyone is hungover from the wedding, but the animals don’t know that, everything still has to happen on time, the public don’t care, everything is a normal day to them, but I miss my little Legolas, and it doesn’t help that I know even when he is back from honeymoon – he will never be my little Legolas again, that he is happier than ever before, that – that he was never really mine anyway, - when I get home, I am tired, and I ache, and I want – I need something, but – he is still working. He will eat later. Maybe.

I see the wine is open already – but he doesn’t offer me a glass. Tells me to go to bed.

I don’t know if he sleeps, but – he does not come to me.

 

 

Things go on like this for – days. And I realise – this is a pattern now. This is how it is. For the rest of my life. And – I am tired.

I love him.

I have always loved him.

But I am so tired of trying.


	2. Chapter 2

I remember the first time I met him. I had only been zoo director for a few weeks, when we had a change of ownership. The whole family came, but I was delayed – I forget why, now, some problem with a computer which only I could sort out. Or so they said. So they always say.

For whatever reason, I was late. And so by the time I arrived to meet the new owner, he was busy, facing away, the boys sent off on a tour. I remember looking at him across the room, seeing the hair, hearing the voice, and – oh the beauty of him. Like any sensible senior employee, I had read about him. I knew how old he was, knew he was a businessman first and foremost, not an animal lover. Knew how he had made his money, inherited some, put it to good use. Knew he had no qualms, knew he was considered a ruthless operator. Knew he was – unlikely to be someone I would agree with about much of the important things in life. Knew he was buying the zoo as though it were an entertainment park like any other. That he had no care for the animals, the conservation, the breeding programmes. 

It made no difference.

Even before he turned, I think I was lost.

But when he turned, when I saw his face – I fell. 

I never believed in such things, never believed love could be like that. So sudden, so complete. So without any hope of logic, of reprieve, of comfort.

And when he crossed the room and spoke to me – I hardly remember what he said, what I said, it mattered not. 

I am sure I was efficient, intelligent, all that I normally am. I am Caradhil, I am not one to fall apart, even in such a moment. But – I looked at him, and I knew, I knew, that there was no other in the world for me. That if he did not want me, I would wait all my life in case he did.

Ridiculous.

Pathetic.

But – that is how it is for me.

That first day, though, he had other people to speak to, shareholders – I was not needed for long. And I went back to my work.

And so, by chance, if chance you call it, it was I that found the toddler wandering about, lost, not quite crying, alone. I, that spoke to him, that asked him who he was here with. 

You learn that. Never ask where mummy and daddy are, because they won’t always – often – be with them. He looked at me, those big wide eyes, and said  
“My brothers. But – they went. They – they said they would come back. But – I waited and waited – and they didn’t.”

I wondered. A long while to a toddler can be only a few seconds to a teenager. But then he said,  
“I saw the elephants have their food. But – then they went away too.” And I knew – the elephants would have been fed over three hours ago, and then moved to the other pasture. We were still near the enclosure – he had not gone far. 

“Is it your brothers we need to find, then?” I asked. I didn’t know much about children then, but I knew I didn’t want to be alone with a little one for long. It just – is too much risk. For a good reason, I know, but – I needed to avoid that. I remember being very careful not to be too close, not to touch him. 

Poor little thing.

I didn’t know then how much he needed someone who wasn’t going to back away.

“No, but – Ada will be cross. I – I always get lost,” and I could see – oh holy Eru – I could see he was going to start crying.

“He will not be cross,” I said, thinking – at least, surely not with you – “can you tell me his name? Or your name? Then we can find him.”

He looked at me again, those big eyes wondering,  
“Everyone knows Ada. He bought the zoo.”

Oh.

Well. I wasn’t sure this was how I wanted the chance to speak to my new boss again, but – it needed doing.

So, I took my new little friend – for he seemed to have decided he liked me, chattering away – back to the offices.

Of course, Thranduil was still in the meeting. And there was no-one else around – as always, when you want someone – so – I had to stay with him. Took him over to the restaurant in the end, plenty of other people about. Never knew a toddler could eat so much ice-cream. Still, he was very sweet. Chatted away.

Told me his mother was dead. And his eldest brother.

Car accident.

And, Eru forgive me, I – couldn’t help but wonder if that meant I had a chance.

Eventually took him back, found the meeting had finished, Thranduil was waiting to speak to me. No idea his youngest had been wandering about for hours alone. Would have blamed him, not his brothers, he was right about that.

That was the first row we had.

Even then, even though I wanted him, as I had never wanted anyone, even though he was my new boss, I wasn’t going to let him shout at the wrong child.

I remember sitting Legolas down in the outer office, with a colouring book, and telling the office staff – back from lunch by then – to keep an eye on him. Then going into my office with Thranduil – my new boss – and having a shouting match – only in whispers because of the child – about his children.

I won.

I was right.

 

After that – oh after that – somehow, they seemed to be at the zoo a lot. I think Thranduil, hard-headed businessman that he is, bought the zoo as some kind of – child-care facility. This is twenty-odd years ago remember. It wasn’t easy to find a good nanny. Particularly for two teenagers and a toddler. 

A toddler the teenagers hated.

I really, really don’t know why. They didn’t blame him for their mother’s death, they admitted that quite freely, they just – didn’t like him. To be fair, he could be annoying. He used to sing, a lot. And talk – oh could that kid talk. Whatever came into his little head, whatever he could see. 

“Oh look Caradhil, there’s the lions, there’s two of them today –“ yes, I know, I run the damn place, there are two. Always. The day there’s one, we have a problem. – “ here’s a bench, I like this bench, it’s a nice bench.-“ I mean – really? What?- “And – oh look, this tree has leaves now – “ you know, Legolas, its spring, most of the bloody trees have leaves on – “is that a mars bar, can I have some?”

Feeding him seemed to be the only way to shut him up. I used to worry he would – I don’t know – get fat, or tooth decay – but – I suppose he used to walk miles, following me about, dancing round and round me. I did try to get in the habit of having less chocolate and more fruit. Until I read somewhere that fruit has as much sugar. Then I gave up, and just told him to clean his teeth. Used to make him at lunchtime sometimes.

Shut him up for a bit too.

Don’t get me wrong, he was a nice little thing. Cute as a button is the expression, I think. But – I was – am – a zookeeper. Not a nanny. 

Still, like I say, twenty years ago, things were a bit different. It wasn’t easy to say to your boss, actually, I don’t want to look after your child. Especially when your boss is clearly having some kind of personal crisis. 

Especially when you know in your heart that you’d do anything for him.

The teenagers – they weren’t so bad. We all – the staff I mean – got used to them. They had passes for the restaurant, could order what they liked, they used to mooch about, as teenagers do. Sometimes they read, sometimes just – mooched. Went through a stage of skateboards – I had to tell them ‘no’ about that. Not in the zoo. Not safe. Says quite clearly, on the sign, no skateboards, no rollerblades. 

I thought there would be a major strop about that. Expected a message from himself – but no. They just nodded, meek as anything. Then they said,  
“But we’re bored.”

So after that, they had their own tasks to do. Only if they wanted, but if they weren’t going to be in to do them, they had to let us know. Worked well, actually.

They weren’t bad kids. Just – bored. Thranduil never made them work for money, but they never got to be at home alone either. Always – hanging about waiting for him.

Downside of that, was that my little Legolas – my little shadow by then – wanted his own tasks. What could he do to be useful, like his brothers? I used to find stuff. 

Just learnt to factor in twice as long.

So, that summer, it was a regular thing to have them all around. Then – then the school term started up, and we were down to just Legolas. Still too little for school then. And of course his brothers weren’t going to come and pick him up on their way home.

So – guess who got in the habit of hanging on to him until closing time – afterwards if I had things to finish up – and then taking him home.

And then – making sure they all three had something to eat that wasn’t pizza. 

And – helping with homework.

And – reading Legolas a story.

And – putting him to bed.

And – hanging about until Thranduil got in.

And – realising that the nights I left immediately, he just – drank wine, ate nothing, didn’t speak to the boys unless they annoyed him. So – staying. Slowing down the drinking, by matching him and halving the bottle, or even taking it off him, making him drink something else – in front of the boys – just that, that’s all, yes, I know you could if you wanted and you wouldn’t be an alcoholic, just – show them you don’t every night. 

Putting Legolas back to bed again.

Maybe even getting him to eat something – but not fussing, that’s not my way, just – if there was leftovers. Something he liked. Amazing how often there was. 

Putting Legolas back to bed again.

Sitting with him, chatting. Finding – he was not what I expected. He did care about his employees. Wanted to extend benefits, wanted everyone to have the opportunities they should have. He was a good boss.

But – more than that – finding he was interesting, fun, good company when he was in the right mood. The age difference - it never mattered to me. Why would it? He’d been so many places, met so many people, read so much, thought so much, he had a wicked sense of humour.

Knowing that hardly helped my heart.

Putting Legolas back to bed again.

Encouraging the older boys to come and tell him about what they’d been doing. 

Encouraging him to listen, to respond.

Seeing how he struggled, how he cared but couldn’t seem to show it.

Aching to make things easier for him.

Putting Legolas back to bed again.

Listening some more.

Maybe talking, if he was in one of those moods, keeping his mind off dark things.

Arguing, all too often, about the boys. Whether he was too strict, or not strict enough. Whether I spoilt Legolas or just gave him the affection he needed.

Knowing it wasn’t just Legolas I wanted to hold, poor little kid that he was.

Putting Legolas back to bed again.

Wishing it was his father I could kiss goodnight.

Going home.

Alone.

Wondering if the light in his eye was just my wishful thinking.

Wondering if the tail-end of a glance meant what it seemed to.

Until, eventually, waiting until the older two were out for the night, waiting until Legolas was really, really asleep. Sitting, chatting on the sofa until – until it felt right. 

Getting up, as though to put the bottle in the bin. Twenty years ago, remember, no-one recycled.

Standing behind him. 

Putting my hands on his shoulders.

Feeling the tension in them.

Gently, gently, running hands through hair.

Leaning down to kiss his head. 

Feeling him lean back into me.

Waiting.

His hands coming up, holding mine.

Saying, “I’ll stop if you want. Always. Whatever you want. That’s all.”

Hearing the little – gasp of need – leaning down as he turned.

Kissing.

Kissing as though he were drowning. As though I was air.

Hands – both of us – everywhere. Kneeling beside him, kissing him, oh kissing him down his throat, his perfect throat, the noises he was making, so soft, so – urgent. Tops rucked up, then off, hands – oh hands undoing zips, fumbling with belts – and then – and then – both of us – so desperate suddenly. On the floor, on our clothes, not caring, just – needing, wanting – pushing against each other, and suddenly – realising – he’d never been with another man. That he didn’t know – didn’t know what he wanted, what to do.

Reaching down, using my hand. 

Both of us, straining, needing, and then – then his pleasure – taking me with him. Wanting to hold him, cling to him, wanting to find words.

Him standing, turning away, doing himself up. Saying,  
“I think you’d better go.”  
Walking away.

Going home.

Alone.

 

 

Going to work next day, wondering what I would find, wondering if there would be any change.

No Legolas.

Realising how much I missed him.

 

A week going by.

Getting a call from the ticket office. They’d got a child there – Legolas. On his own. Didn’t know what to do with him.

Going down to find him.

Seeing his little face light up, then – seeing him look so awkward suddenly, shy. Crouching down next to him, saying,  
“What are you doing here, little one? Thought you were in school now?” knowing perfectly well he wasn’t, but what else to say? “How did you get here?”

And then – his eyes looking at me – I could see the tears he was holding back,  
“I – I waited until Ada was on the telephone. I – I know the way – I – I missed you. I – I didn’t make you cross, did I? I – I don’t want to be at home with Ada, I want to be here with you. Caradhil – why don’t you come see us any more? We miss you. Ada is sad.”

Sighing. How do you explain any of this to a little boy?  
“I think your Ada is cross with me. He doesn’t bring you here anymore. So – I can’t come and see you. It’s up to him,” then, realising what he had said, “you came all this way on your own? Ada will be worried. We had better phone him. Come on. You can help me while you wait for him.”

Then – when I phoned Thranduil – and oh, that was a difficult phonecall – finding – he hadn’t even noticed the child had gone.

“Oh for goodness sake, stupid child. I can’t just – drop everything to come and get him. I’m working.”

“So am I,” I said, and waited.

“Fuck. I’d better pay you more. Bring him over when you leave. Like usual.”

The arrogance of it.

“No, Thranduil,” I said, “I don’t want paying more. I’m not a nanny. I’ll keep him here, and I’ll bring him over, because I like him. He’s a nice kid. He deserves better than someone who won’t notice he’s gone. You think about that. You think about what could have happened. And – “ I was so angry, “and when I bring him over, when the boys are in bed or something, you and I – we are going to have a conversation. You can’t just – ignore what happened. You think about that, too.”

Putting the phone down.

Going through to Legolas, seeing his face light up when I told him Ada said he could stay, like usual. That, yes, I would take him home. Stay for a bit.

Of course, Thranduil didn’t come out of his study until the boys had all gone to bed. 

He didn’t come out then.

I went to him.

I am many things, but I am not a coward.

I walked in, I didn’t knock. I didn’t think he deserved it.

I’m not sure, now, what I expected to find him doing. Working, maybe. Drinking. Maybe even – in my most self-doubting moments – thinking about his wife.

I daresay he had done all those. 

But – when I walked in – he was – just sitting.

He looked so sad, my anger left me. I stood there, looking at him, waiting. He didn’t speak. I don’t think he knew what to say. He couldn’t even look at me.

“You need to decide what you want,” I said, quietly, not shouting, “What would you have me be? I can be – your employee and nothing more. I can be your friend. I can be your – friend with benefits. I can be your lover. Any of those. I will not be your child-minder. I will not be your children’s nanny. I will not be your whore. You need to decide.”

And when he did not answer, I turned to go. But I stopped, and said, not looking at him,  
“I love you. That is how it is. But I have my pride, there are some things I will not do,” and then I looked at him again, “whatever you decide between us, I will not let you hurt your boys further. The older two – are nearly adult. They have their own lives. But they deserve to know there is one adult who cares, who has not crawled inside a bottle. If you will not, then I will be that adult. And Legolas – he is so small. Can you not see how hurt he is? He has lost his mother, his idolised eldest brother already. If he is going to lose his father – to work, to sorrow, to wine – then do not make him lose the zoo, the animals, me. Or you will damage him further.” I stopped, to see if he could answer, and when he could not, I said, “you think about what you want from me, but I will expect Legolas to come tomorrow. He needs that constant in his life.”

I went home.

Alone.

 

 

I suppose, having bought the zoo, he was always going to keep using it for childcare. And I think the older two liked it, liked me. As for Legolas – he has always had a real way with animals. Sings to them, persuades them to do as he wishes. So – I had my little shadow. I fell back into the habit of taking him home, staying, and – before long – it was usual to sit and talk with Thranduil again.

For all my brave words, he never managed to say what he wanted from me. We just – fell into the habit – if the boys were not around – of sex. Sometimes. When he wanted it. On the floor, or sofa. And only kissing, only hands. Nothing more. He never held me as I wanted to be held, never let me hold and comfort him, never let me in, but, he was never so dismissive again. It became – something we did as friends. 

I knew I was foolish, I knew I was letting him call the shots. But I saw no way to change things. When he was away on business, I stayed over with the boys. When he was around – I went home. Always.

That hurt.

For all that part of me understood. Twenty years ago, remember. Three boys in the house. Last thing he needed was some – neighbour – calling the social services. And I daresay there would have been. I understood that. It wouldn’t have been easy. But – I would have liked him to admit that – staying – was something we might have liked. 

To be honest, I didn’t understand why it was alright for me to stay when he was away, but not when he was there. 

It makes me smile, now, when I hear Legolas tell it. “Ada was sad and lonely, then he started dating Caradhil. Then everything got better. Then they got married.” 

It didn’t feel quite like that. It never felt like dating. I don’t know where he gets that idea from. I didn’t think anything would change. I thought this was how it would be for the rest of my life.

I like Legolas’ version more. 

Then – I had to go away. Work, nothing else. I didn’t plan it, I didn’t scheme, I – I wasn’t capable of that. Oh in every other part of my life, I am. But not with him.

There was a tiger. In a zoo in Eastern Europe. There’d been some – scandal – some expose of conditions. All the animals needed rehousing, we said we would take the tiger, and a few others, but the tiger was the big one, the tricky one. So – I had to go and get it, accompany it and its paperwork.

Nightmare of a week. The whole thing, first to last, couldn’t have been more hassle. Well, it could, the tiger could have escaped, or eaten someone, or died. But – apart from that – I have never spent so much time charming people, talking people round, and so on. Fortunately I am good at that.

Anyway, finally got home, with tiger, got tiger settled, crashed into bed. About 4am I think. 

7.06 get a call from the office – Legolas is here. 

Fortunately, home was the director’s flat – over the office. So – ten minutes, and I’m showered, dressed and there. And – oh has that kid missed me. Big hugs. Lots to tell me. Made it worthwhile. He always did. 

All day, following me around, talking. 

He was so pleased with the tiger. And – I think that was the first time I noticed – it liked him. I wouldn’t have let him risk going in with it, but – it liked him singing away to it. He could see it did, his little face lighting up, understanding that yes, this is something he was good at, something he could do, that his brothers, his father, couldn’t.

And I looked at him, and I remember thinking, I’m doing something right. Took him home that night, and – yes – the older boys – they didn’t say anything outright, but – they were pleased to see me. Chatted. As much as teenagers ever do. 

Even their father – seemed to have noticed I wasn’t there.

But – I went home, alone.

Next day, Thranduil actually brought Legolas into the zoo, didn’t just leave him at the entrance. Brought him to my office. Then said,  
“Go and – be busy through there, Legolas, I need to speak to Caradhil.” 

I remember thinking there was bad news. He looked – I don’t know – I was expecting to hear he was selling, maybe there was a problem, I couldn’t think what, I knew the gate figures were up, knew everything was under control. I’m good at what I do. He shut the door, and turned away from me, looked out of the window.

“The boys missed you this week,” he started, “last night – I realised how much. It’s better – when you’re around. Caradhil, it’s a big house. You could have as much space as you want. I know you like to swim, there is the pool, the garden, better than here, surely? I would not take your flat from you, that goes with the job, but – Legolas particularly – he’d be a lot happier if you were around all the time.”

I looked at him – his back – I didn’t know what to think,  
“Are you – are you asking me to be – the nanny? I said, I will not do that. Or – what? Flatmates, a houseshare? I think we’re a bit old for that. Are you trying to buy me? You want me around because of the boys – what are you asking me, Thranduil, because I don’t understand?”

I could see him tense, could see I was not doing as he wished – and he doesn’t like that – but – I wasn’t sure what I was hearing. He still couldn’t turn, couldn’t look at me,  
“I’m asking you – to – marry me, you bloody idiot. I find – I find everything runs smoother when you are there. We need you. All of us.”

Twenty years ago, remember. No such thing as gay marriage.

“Marry you? What the hell do you mean? We go from – barely admitting you like – like your bit of fun to – what exactly?”

That got a reaction. He turned, glared at me, in his own inimitable way,  
“What do I mean? I mean – move in. Completely. Be there. In my bed, in my house, all the time. Take care of the boys. Like you do anyway, but – stay the night. I – I don’t know how else to say it.”

No, I thought, you don’t, do you? And you don’t know how I feel, what I want, and – you don’t really care. I waited, in case there was more. 

“You said that you loved me. I find – that you improve things. I am asking you to make it a permanent arrangement. I would have thought you would like that, see that it is best for the boys. For Legolas. For – all of us.”

He couldn’t say it. 

And I saw he never would. However long I stood there. 

He is not given to lying.

Like the song says, “I want you, I need you, but there ain’t no way I’m ever going to love you.” I knew that. Knew he would never love any but his dead wife.

But – two out of three ain’t bad.

I just nodded.

 

So, a few days later, I did. I packed up my life and moved in. I don’t know exactly how or what he told the boys, but the older two – didn’t bat an eyelid. They went through my possessions as I unpacked them, flicking at the books, playing tracks from the cds, looking at the clothes. Whatever the test was, I seemed to pass it. I suppose they were old enough to have seen how things were, to be maybe expecting it. They both hugged me goodnight for the first time, but that was it. Nothing else changed.

Legolas – he was – ecstatic. Almost too much. I hadn’t really realised how attached he was to me, how little to his brothers, how – shy – he was of his father. He found some of my – supposedly work related books – I don’t think I ever saw them again. Couldn’t read of course, but he loved animals. Always. But – he was still very little. He spent all evening saying,  
“Really? Always? Caradhil here all night? In the morning too?” and holding my hand.

“Yes,” I kept saying, “Caradhil here. I am here. I promise you. I am here for you.”

He wouldn’t let go of me.

I suppose I should have been warned by that.

It was only weeks later, I realised that was the only promise either of us made that day. I suppose I should have been warned by that too.

Legolas was never the easiest child to settle. Didn’t seem to need much sleep, always wanting one more story, one more hug, always needing to know where another toy animal was. That night – that night he was bad, even by his standards. He would not sleep. 

Finally, we thought he had. We dared go to bed. First time in the bed, remember. First time with any – any hint of – more than just – a quick need. It felt – odd. As though we were – I don’t know – obliged to do something. And yet – there was no spontaneity. No need driving us. But – oh I wanted it so much. So bloody much. Hoping – hoping that he would – oh it sounds so silly, so romantic – but – hoping he would show some – affection. Let me love him. 

Starting to get undressed, separately, one on each side of the room – and I suppose that was odd enough, I am sure that is not how it is for most couples, the first night together – still not sure in my own mind, whether he wanted me, or just – thought it would be easy and convenient. Then – hearing it. I suppose every parent dreads it – that pathetic wailing that means – no. Whatever you were doing, forget it, I need you, I need you, now. 

Seeing the look on Thranduil’s face. Realising that – yes, he did want me. Wanted something. Realising – he was going to just shut his bedroom door and ignore it.

Knowing I couldn’t do that.

Going to the door, before he could, saying,  
“I can’t leave him to cry. It’s not fair. He’s only little.”

Thranduil just looked at me. He shrugged, as though to say, “It’s up to you.” I suppose it was. But it never felt like a choice to me. He was adult, he could wait, could understand. 

I went to Legolas. He was howling. I don’t remember why – I don’t think there was a why, really. A bad dream, a lost animal, no-one came. But – oh his little face when he realised I was there. He clung to me, and – here was someone who did want me, need me. Loved me. And I knew I would do anything not to let this child down.

I sat on the floor by his bed, I held his hand. Every time I thought he was asleep enough for me to go, he would jerk awake, and cling. 

I suppose I had been there over an hour, when Thranduil came through.  
“Fucking hell, what are you playing at, Legolas?” he said, always the patient understanding father, “just bloody leave him, Caradhil. He’ll shut up eventually, he always does.”

I couldn’t do that.

But I understood a lot more about my little shadow then.

When he saw I meant it, that I wouldn’t leave him until he was settled, Thranduil – sighed. He took off his dressing gown – I was half undressed remember, only in t-shirt and boxers, and wrapped it round me. He went back to bed then, muttering about having to work tomorrow – as though I didn’t – but – I felt warmer.

Not how I ever imagined spending my wedding night.

I don’t know what time Legolas settled, but I woke on the floor, about five. He’d let go of me, sometime in the night. I dared to creep out, and he didn’t wake. I went back to Thranduil’s room – our room – and – stripped, got into bed. He was so beautiful, I couldn’t believe my luck. What did it matter, any of the why, or how much? He had asked me here. I loved him. All the rest – it fell away from me. I loved him so much. He looked so sad, even in sleep. I remember reaching out, stroking the hair away from his face, daring to lean to kiss him. He half woke, and – he was pleased to see me.

But – afterwards – he rolled away, said he might as well get up now he was awake. 

So I did too.

Which, it turned out, was a good thing, since Legolas was up and looking for me by six. But – it set a pattern.

I suppose I was wrong. It was our first night together, and I put Legolas’ need before Thranduil’s. Yet – he could have forgiven me that, surely, when he had made it so clear he wanted me at least as much for the boys’ as for himself?

How could I not have gone to that child, when I knew that he was all the child I would ever have, now I had committed myself to Thranduil?

Would he really have had me shut the door?

 

 

Somehow, over the years, it became settled. I was there – always – for the boys; my work – I fitted round them. Never neglected it, but – they spent a lot of time in the zoo. Thranduil – he had his wine, his work. We had good times, all five of us, then four, then three as the older two left. We had days where all seemed right, seemed normal, happy. I have memories of board games, days at the beach, days walking in the woods, teaching Legolas to swim, to ride, watching films, reading together. 

There were times when all seemed so right, so good. The house was fantastic, the pool, the garden – almost perfect for the boys to grow up in, even if it wasn’t their old home, even if it had no memories of their mother. I think he couldn’t bear that. And I suppose it would have been much harder for the older two if he had moved someone in there.

But – sometimes – the house itself – the money – wonderful though it was, easy though it made a lot of things – remember, this is twenty years ago. He wouldn’t – couldn’t, in his own mind – touch me in front of the cleaner, the gardener, the pool man, the swimming teacher, anyone. And so – he never touched me, even at home, outside the bedroom. I used to wonder if other people thought I was – a friend, an au pair, a cousin or somesuch. 

I used to wonder if he hoped they did.

Particularly when there were bad times. Twenty years ago remember. Not easy, to take Legolas to school, to introduce myself. Not easy at all. Not when other parents didn’t want their sons to come home. Not when the doctor wouldn’t speak to me, only to Thranduil and he was never available – I suppose had it been serious he would have been there, but not for the usual childhood things. Not when teachers always asked questions, and Legolas would come home and tell us, and not understand – thank goodness – why they asked things like that. Not when neighbours looked askance. Not when every acquisition – and he loves his work, more than anything or anyone, I think – was greeted in the press with some desperate headline referring to his sexuality.

I used to wonder what made it worth it to him. Habit I suppose. Not liking to back down.

Perhaps that Legolas was – at last – beginning to lose that haunted look, that the older two had better grades than they’d managed for years.

I don’t know what else.

Oh, we had our passionate times – at least, we had what passed for passion. Need, on his side. Desperation, longing, on mine. But – only ever safely in bed. When Legolas was asleep. When I had checked on my little one, as many times as he needed.

And – always – he would roll away, and sleep alone. And I would lie and ache, longing, adoring, not knowing how to change things. Wishing I had the courage to speak. Knowing I did not. Telling myself that – when the boys were older, when they left, when the law changed, each tiny change that those not affected by said was so little, so unnecessary, but to me – to me brought closer the day he would hold my hand in front of others; telling myself that when it became more accepted, when – oh when elephants sang – all that I dreamed of would come true.

So – all too many memories are of Legolas and I, all three boys and I, maybe even the five of us. Few memories of just we two. We never went dancing, or for dinner, or to films, or away for weekends, for holidays. Nothing. Why bother? He could afford better caterers at home than any restaurant, he could afford state of the art home cinema equipment, he had given me the most luxurious home. He doesn’t dance. Not with me. So – better to be at home with the boys. They needed us – me. But – even when they were in bed, or out, we never – took the opportunity. Oh, we talked, and he was – is – as witty, as intelligent, as interesting as ever. But – we could have been friends, and nothing more. No. One thing – one aspect of our lives was more than friendship. We had arguments – oh did we have arguments. The same ones we always had – we never argued about work, or money, or politics, or any of those things. All the things I thought we would argue over. But no, even when we disagreed, we could talk. Persuade each other, sometimes. We argued only ever over the boys. Was he too strict, or too distant, was I too soft, too involved? Did he not care enough, would they feel ignored? Did I care too much, get cross over things that were not really important? 

And of course – the big row. When Legolas announced he had no intention of going to college. No intention of following the allotted course. That he was going to be a zoo attendant. Like me. That he had applied. That he had got the place. At my zoo. And, yes, I knew. I only found out when the recruitment manager told me, wanted to offer him the job, but wanted to check with me. She was very nice about it, said she didn’t want to make trouble, but didn’t want to offer him a place if he wasn’t serious. I wasn’t surprised. Should have seen it coming, for years probably. But – oh Thranduil didn’t like that. Not because of the job, but the lack of talking, the fact he was the last to know. Even though I told him the day I found out. 

I suppose he didn’t really like the job. But he was good enough not to say so. He is not a fool, not completely without any empathy. I daresay I would say that – otherwise so much of my life has been wasted. Anyway, Legolas got his own way, as usual. After I had fought for him. I could always fight for his needs, just – never for my own. To see his proud father now, you’d think Thranduil bought the zoo all those years ago just for this. 

All through the years – every night – we lay together. Often – as I said – we did more than lie. Particularly once Legolas had learnt to trust that I would still be there in the morning. But, he has never held me as I hoped he would, never talked to me as I thought he might, never let me in to his thoughts.

I don’t think Legolas has ever realised. He seems to see us as a happy couple.

That worries me a bit. I wonder whether I did that child a favour, in the end, if he thinks this is a good marriage, where we have rarely spoken about anything personal except – arrangements, the boys, work. Where we – I would like to call it making love, but I am not sure it is – only when Thranduil wishes, only on his terms, never anything more than – hands, and kisses – and perhaps that wouldn’t matter if – if there was more caring. No, it wouldn’t. It isn’t that I miss the other – ways – much though I enjoyed them. It is more the connection that I miss. I did try – he is not an easy one to talk to – we have never talked about – bed, but – I tried to show that – I longed for more. That I would do – whatever pleased him. But whenever I made to move down his body, to turn onto my front, to – anything – he would stop me. Made it clear he had no wish to even try anything. I suppose – all the time it was just hands – perhaps he doesn’t have to think of himself as gay. Not really. Just – a bit of fun between friends. Sometimes I think that is all it is to him. I – had had other lovers before him, men, and women, I was no naive lad, younger than him though I am. And – though I never loved as I love him, I knew more affection with those friends than I know in our bed. Somehow, for us, love – or whatever word I should use – sex – is never tender, never joyous, only ever – quick. Rarely, these days.

I see the way the elder boys are with their wives, the way Legolas is with Gimli, and I think – that is how it should be. 

I doubt they lie as separate in their beds as if they were strangers, forced to share by circumstance.

I doubt that any of them long to reach out, but dare not, because the chill of rejection would be worse than the uncertainty.


	3. Chapter 3

I watch the stars, I think.

I come to a decision.

I am worth more than this. I am Caradhil.

If he will not give it, then I would rather be alone. 

Brave words. If only I meant them. 

Be honest, Caradhil.

I love him. Whatever he wants. And if he no longer wants me, then I cannot live like this, cold and lonely, watching him absent himself.

He is in his study, possibly working, possibly avoiding me.

I go to him. I have no anger to buoy me up, the way we are is as much my fault as his; I never asked for more, I never demanded more.

I knock, and then go in.

He looks up at me,  
“I have eaten, I am not hungry,” he says, “go to bed. I will be up later.”

I shrug,  
“It is no longer my concern whether you are hungry. You are not a child. What difference does it make to me when you go to bed? You do not touch me – you have not touched me for months, you no longer want me in that way, if – if you ever truly did,” I pause, wondering if he cares at all, “I came to tell you – I am moving back to my flat. It is still there, not used at the moment, apart from emergencies. I – I do not think I can live like this any longer. You have no need of me, you have no interest in me anymore, you have made that clear,” I turn away, fighting to stay in control. I will not cry, I will not shout, that is not who I would wish to be, “I am sorry. I know I said, ‘whatever you want, always,’ but I find – it has taken me longer than it should but – I cannot do this anymore, I cannot pretend that you want me here. I never – I never thought you would love me the way I love you, the way you loved your wife, but – twenty years – over twenty years I have done all you asked – and now – this is too cold,” I hear my voice shake, and then continue, “I have been thinking of this for a long time. And now – now there is only you and I – I see no reason to continue to pretend. You wish me to go, so I will go.”

I wait for a moment, but there is silence.

I bow my head, accepting defeat, and I go.

 

 

I move back to the flat, as I said. I take nothing he ever bought me, and – there is an ache inside me when I realise how little that is.

Almost nothing. I keep my ring. 

I still love him.

I do not like myself for it, but I do. I cannot seem to change that.

 

 

Of course, people being people, it is – hours – before Legolas hears what has happened. Someone has seen me moving my possessions, noticed my car is here, has realised, talked. He comes to me, distraught, and I think – no. Not this time. You are married now. It is not about you anymore.

“Caradhil,” he asks, and – how can his eyes not have changed? How can he still look so small? “what has happened between you and Ada? Why – why are you here? What has he done?”

I look away, and I steel myself to say it,  
“As you say, Legolas, it is between me and him. Or rather, it isn’t. He does not seem to mind I have moved, so I don’t see what business it is of yours. Not anymore. You are married, you are an adult. I do not ask you about your relationship, even though you tell me more than I need to know, do not ask about ours. I stayed – all the time you needed me – I stayed. I am still here, still easy for you to find. That is all you need to know.” And I walk away.

 

 

The weeks pass. I suppose I should enjoy my freedom, perhaps date someone else – or at least try. 

But I have no desire to.

I work harder and longer hours than ever.

After that one conversation, Legolas seems to have given up, although the eyes still question me. His brothers – they have quickly changed their routine, and phone me on this number. I do not ask if they also phone their father. I suspect I can guess.

But – I am not going back for them. Not this time.

Their father has not asked me.

 

 

I find – I find there is nothing I want to do that I could not do before. He never cared what I wore, what we ate, what music I played, where I went.

I find I rarely leave the zoo, now I live here again.

 

 

There are, of course, occasional meetings with Thranduil in a work context. But – we always kept that very businesslike, with others present, so – it does not change. I suppose the others – wonder at us – but – that is not my concern.

I am busy.

I suppose he is busy also.

 

I miss – not him as he has been these last months, years, but – the way things were, before the boys left, or when Legolas was little. 

 

 

I still think I have made the right decision. He does not even care I am gone, so what would I be staying for?

 

 

One day, Legolas comes to me, bringing coffee, never a good sign, and a mars bar – even worse, and,

“Caradhil, I know you said not to speak of it, but – are you happy now? Ada – Ada is not. He misses you. He will not say it, but he does.”

And for a moment there is a spark of hope, but,

“He cannot find anything, the house is a mess, he does not phone us, and if we phone him he will not talk, he drinks even more than he did, he does nothing but work and drink and look at old photos of mother.”

It is like – like a spear in my guts. For a moment, I honestly debate throwing his damn coffee over him. 

“Will you not ask him to let you come back?” he says, and I wonder – is he really so naive? So humble? And I hope – oh I hope – that Gimli has no idea how much he could manipulate this one. I look at him,   
“No. I will not. I am worth more than that. I will not go back to organise his house, regulate his drinking, make him talk to his children. I will not go back to see him look from those photos to me, and know which of us he would rather had died. Do not speak to me of this again.”

And I walk away.

If Thranduil wants me, even just for that, he can ask me himself.

To my shame, I doubt I would be able to refuse him.

 

 

The months pass. 

I am indeed lonely. But I am worth more than he would give. I would rather be alone than go on like that.

I keep telling myself this. 

I know it is not true. 

All he has to do, is ask. 

I promised. “Always. Whatever you want.” I said. And I meant it.

But he does not want me anymore.

 

 

There is a meeting. He is present, as are others. The business is discussed, it is done, people begin to leave. 

Thranduil comes to me,  
“I would speak with you,” he says, and I wait, “in your office. Alone.”

I follow him in, wondering what this is.

As once before, he turns away, he looks out of the window as he speaks,  
“The house is too large for one. I am selling it. Moving on. I would also sell this place. Your share of the house would buy you – a sizeable stake. I – in consideration of all you have done here, you deserve a lower price. I want you to think about it. It would make sense for you.”

I don’t know what I expected, but not this,  
“It is not my house, none of it, I never owned any of it,” I say, stupidly.

He shrugs,  
“As far as I am concerned you did. You were married to me. Not legally, but – in all the ways that count. You made it – what it is. No. You made it what it was,” he sighs, and I have never known him sound so – tired, “you made it a happy home for us. You made the boys what they are. You make this place the success it is. Think about it.”

And he turns to go, but at the door he stops again, and says,  
“I do not know what I did wrong. I would have married you if I could – by the time it was possible, I thought it did not matter. If that is what it is, you have only to say. I – am aware I am not – as young as I was. I did not know that – sex – was so important to you. You never seemed as though you minded. You can take your ring off now, you know. I don’t suppose it makes your new – freedom – any easier to take advantage of. I knew you only ever stayed for the boys – for Legolas, I simply hoped you were comfortable enough not to leave.”

For a moment I am frozen, not understanding. 

Then I see – the whole of our past – differently. And he is about to walk out. 

“You fool,” I say, and he turns, angry, more than angry, “you bloody fool. I wear your ring because I still love you, still am yours in my heart. I have not been looking for – others. I have never looked for others, never wanted another since I met you. Never. Do you not know how I have ached to be allowed to love you? How I have wanted you to – care for me? No, sex is not so important to me – you were right about that – but – for it only ever to be – as it has been – is not enough. You have never let me show how I feel. I told you I loved you all those years ago, and I always have. It is not that we were not married – nice though that might be – it is that you never said you wanted me, never held me, never gave any sign that you cared. Never let me hold you, comfort you, love you. Never let me in. Never. Even at – at Legolas’ wedding – you would not dance with me. You would not hold my hand. Never. I felt so alone. You did not tell me – you did not tell me why you no longer – wished for sex. I thought – you did not desire me. I felt – cold. That you did not want to be with me at all. Thranduil, dearly though I love your boys, it is you – always you – that I live for.”

We look at each other, and I wonder which of us has been more stupid, more proud. Which of us is more to blame for all the years it seems we have wasted. I am not sure, but – I know which of us will find it easier to step forward.

So I do, holding out my hands,  
“Please,” I say, “if you want me, all you have to do is say.”

He takes my hands, still angry, I can feel it in him, but,  
“Yes,” he says, “I want you, you – “ and he purses his lips, which is probably a good thing. He has a talent for invective which just now, I do not think I could bear used on me, fragile as I feel, “just come home.”

I look at him, and then, I find myself saying,   
“Legolas said – he said you were looking at photos of your wife. A lot. It – it hurts – it always hurt – to only ever be second best. But – I know that is how it is. That is why I never asked you to marry me when the law changed. I thought you would say no. I know you love her, and always will, but – if you still want me, need me – I suppose – that will be enough. It has been all these years.”

He looks at me, and I see – he is almost laughing,  
“Oh my Caradhil,” he says, “when have you ever – ever – known that son of mine to understand me? I have been looking at photos. Trying to understand what I did wrong. Trying to see if – if it would have happened with her – if it is me. Or – she and I – we never fought the way you and I do. She never shouted at me, as you do, never. I suppose – I have been thinking – all our arguments – were about the boys. I was more patient, kinder, before she – died. I was able – to touch her in front of others. I was never – as perhaps you would have me be – I was never like my son, unable to keep his hands from his beloved, but – perhaps I have been slow to learn to be open about us. I never expected to be with – you. To be queer. To need to learn to be open. She did not need to shout at me,” he sighs, again, “if she was alive – I would never have met you, never have had this. If I could choose – I don’t know. I don’t know, and that’s the best truth I can give you. But I can’t,” he shrugs, “the world is as it is, and – have I really never said it? Of course I love you, my Caradhil. Now come home.”

Impatient and imperious as ever, even in the most heartfelt speech I have ever heard from him. But – he said it. He called me his, he said he loves me. He called his house my home. My heart sings.

I look at the clock,  
“I can’t,” I grin, “I am working. The boss is a tough guy to please.”

He raises an eyebrow,  
“Not tough,” he pauses, deliberately, “hard perhaps,” he runs his hands through my hair, raking out the tidy, practical braids, until I am laughing and protesting, and “oh my flame, my star, my Caradhil,” he says again, and he pulls me close, suddenly, and I realise – he has lost none of his strength, indeed, for all this talk of aging – there is no sign of it right now, and I – I gasp at the thought, at the thought of what we may still have ahead of us. I look at his perfect face and I see at last that the lines – faint but definite, so long familiar – the lines no longer tell only of grief and pain. The delicate traces on his skin tell also of laughter, of happiness – and I know some of them – some of them tell of me. Too long we have wasted, but there is still time. I – it is a cliché – but – I feel – weak – at the thought that – he wants me. He loves me. He – oh dear Eru – he wants me, right here, right now. I can feel he does, and – oh I am not going to resist. I love him so. He smiles, as my arms go round him, as his mouth approaches mine, as his beautiful hair falls loose over us, and as he moves us away from the door, he says, “Phone my silly son, and tell him to deal with whatever is going on. Tell him – if he interrupts us now – I shall not be patient. This time – this time – it is about you and I, my Caradhil, you and I. No children.”

I laugh. 

And he kisses me, at last, at last, he kisses me as though – as though he means it.

Indeed, I realise, he always did.

**Author's Note:**

> Caradhil is an original character of mine, he is in many of my stories, generally having his life screwed over by the car-wreck that is the royal family of Mirkwood.


End file.
